


The Waiting Game

by rubberglue



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-24
Updated: 2012-05-24
Packaged: 2017-11-05 22:57:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,113
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/411950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rubberglue/pseuds/rubberglue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arthur and Gwen find it difficult to wait. Also, another princess is in town and she has her eye on Arthur.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Waiting Game

She watches as his long fingers curl around the goblet. Next to him is yet another princess from some faraway land and as he listens to the princess talk, his finger idly stroke the neck of the goblet.

His fingers are gentle and she imagines them on her, stroking her face, moving down to her neck, then lower still. Would she be like the goblet, still and unmoving as he explores her lines or would she strain towards him so that she can feel more of his touch? His touch would be warm and slow, lingering over her curves.

“Gwen! The prince’s goblet needs filling!” Bertha growls into her ear as she gives Gwen a shove. Her heart pounding, she dips her head and moves towards where Arthur is sitting. Although it seems impossible, she feels as if everyone knows what she was thinking about and her cheeks burn.

Her hand trembles as she splashes the wine into his goblet, drops of wine fall onto his tunic. This gets his attention and he turns from the princess and looks at her. She is a mess and barely manages an apology. He smiles and quietly rubs his thumb across her hand that is on his goblet, a promise unspoken. It feels like she has been burnt. His touch lingers before the princess speaks again and she pulls away regretfully. It would do no good to be discovered.

As she moved back to her place in the recesses of the dining hall, she sees Bertha staring suspiciously at her.

~*~*~*~

Merlin sends word that Arthur has to attend an urgent council meeting that night and she hides her disappointment. Walking alone back to her home, she can still feel his touch on the back of her hand. She thinks about how it would feel if he dragged his hand up her arm and she feels her skin tingle. Heat pools between her legs and she quickens her steps.

By the time she is safely ensconced in her home, she sits on her bench and closes her eyes. She runs her fingers along the route she imagines Arthur would take - from her face to her neck before he moves lower. Tentatively, she cups her breasts, rubbing her thumbs across her hardening nipples. In her mind, she can see Arthur’s larger hands fondling her breasts, playing with her nipples. When she starts to imagine Arthur pinching and pulling her nipples, guilt swamps her and she opens her eyes. Quickly dropping her hands, she stands up and walks around her tiny home. Good girls didn’t play with their bodies. They definitely didn’t imagine men playing with their bodies.

She forces herself to think of her list of chores for tomorrow. Her breathing settles and the place between her legs stops throbbing. Relieved that her body is no longer all keyed up, she gets ready for bed. She knows sleep would not come easy.

~*~*~*~

Gwen knocks lightly on the princess’s door - Princess Abigail from Samardea according to Merlin. She had never heard of Samardea before but Bertha had and regaled the servants with stories of a land far across the sea, a land that was always bountiful filled with people who were always happy.

“I hear that King Uther wants to forge an alliance with them and that’s why he invited King Fredrick’s daughter to spend spring here. It is hoped that the young prince will take a liking to her. After all, spring is the season for love.” There was a glint in Bertha’s eyes as she whispered it this morning to Gwen. “Prince Arthur always says you are the best servant Camelot has, so it’s only right you are assigned to her.”

Even the princess’s voice was beautiful, thought Gwen as she is invited into the room.

“I am so glad you are here. Help me with my hair. I’m to have lunch with the prince later and he’s the most handsome one I’ve ever seen.” Something squeezes her heart as she runs the brush through the princess’s golden locks. Her strokes are mechanical as she listens to the princess prattle on about Prince Arthur and his kissable lips and gorgeous ass. Gwen realises she had never observed Arthur’s ass before and a blush rises in her cheeks when she thinks of looking.

~*~*~*~

A quick tug and she’s pulled into an alcove along the corridor that links the princess’s room to the main castle. She barely has time to react before Arthur dips his head and slants his lips across hers. The kiss is chaste as they always were and Arthur’s arms never move from the loose hold he has around her waist. Feeling slightly bold and still curious from the princess’s talk earlier, she slowly moves her hands from his chest lower.

He breaks the kiss, brows furrowing, chest heaving.

She smiles as confidently as she can, rises on tiptoes and kisses him. His pleased gasp and the fact that he tightens his hold on her waist emboldens her even more. He too seems a bit more daring as he slips his tongue into her mouth, tangling with hers.

The only thing she can hear is her heartbeat. The only thing she can feel is his heat.

As Arthur deepens the kiss and pulls her even closer to him, she gathers her courage and slides her hands to his ass. He tenses slightly before drawing back. There’s a question in his eyes, a curiosity about where her boldness has come from. It’s a question she’s asking herself as well.

Princess Abigail is right. Arthur has a nice ass and she can’t help but run her hands over it.

A growl and Arthur pulls her even closer. She can feel his length hard against her thigh and a thrill shoots through her even as her nerves start to rise. Before she can make sense of how far they are moving, Arthur is suckling against her neck. Her legs feel are wobbly and she feels a sudden need to rub herself against his length.

She doesn’t because it isn’t right. She shouldn’t be touching Arthur’s ass. She shouldn’t be moaning as he kisses her neck.

It’s with a mixture of relief and regret that she pulls away from his embrace when she hears footsteps approaching.

His eyes are hooded and he gazes at her, a smirk on his face. Brushing a soft kiss across her cheek, he whispers that he loves her before he darts from the alcove, leaving her flustered, aroused and smiling like a fool.

Something that felt so good couldn’t really be that bad, right?

~*~*~*~

Bertha eyes her as she enters the kitchen to collect the soup for lunch. When she comes down a second time to drop off the used bowls, Bertha grabs her arm and pulls her to a corner.

“What is that mark on your neck?” Her tone is disapproving, almost angry. “What have you been up to Guinevere?”

Mark? “What mark?”

“Don’t play the fool with me!” Bertha moves even closer and lowers her voice. “I hope you’re fooling around with one of the other servants. If it’s one of them nobles, then you are in for nothing but a world of hurt.”

The intensity and anger in Bertha’s voice makes her nervous and she nods.

Shaking her head, Bertha pushes her towards the tray of food to be brought up. “Be careful Gwen. The nobles just want to bed you. Once they do that, they will just move on to the next young serving girl.”

She doesn’t know how to respond and so she grabs the tray and makes her way up to the dining room.

When she sees Arthur laughing with Princess Abigail, Bertha’s words echo in her head and she feels slightly sick.

~*~*~*~

Gwen helps Princess Abigail out of her dress as she talks about Arthur. Unlike the other noble ladies Gwen has served, the princess is neither shy nor reticent. She tells Gwen about how fit Arthur looks and how much she would love to feel his arms around her. It’s a mix of jealousy and awkwardness that keeps Gwen from doing anything more than nod.

“Prince Owen from Kalaberg is no where as fine as your prince but his mouth could do wonders. If only his fingers were as skilled.”

Images of Arthur’s head buried in the crook of her neck just that morning flood her mind and Gwen yanks at the ties of the princess’s bodice.

“Oh! Have I embarrassed you?” The princess looks genuinely contrite and turns to grab Gwen’s hands. She smiles at Gwen as she squeezes her hands. “You don’t look much younger than me. Are you that inexperienced?”

Gwen can feel the heat in her cheeks. She had been trained to deal with rude royalty, with royalties who thought that servants were available for touching and even royalties who demanded round-the-clock care but no one, not even Bertha, had prepared her for a princess who wanted to discuss men with her.

Princess Abigail pulls Gwen to sit on the bed next to her. Her voice drops to a conspiratory whisper. “I won’t tell anyone. I promise. Surely you’ve been with a man before.”

The earnestness in the princess’s eyes and the warm hand covering hers ease Gwen’s discomfort a little. “I have kissed.”

“And?”

“That’s about it really. Although I have thought of more.” Gwen is sure her whole face is red. How did she get into this very odd situation? More importantly, why was she telling the princess all this? Things she had never told anyone else before.

The princess laughs. “I think of more all the time. Sometimes I even indulge myself.”

Gwen just stares at the princess. Is she not afraid of bearing a child while unmarried?

“Don’t look so shocked. You don’t need a man to indulge yourself.”

That night, Gwen doesn’t leave the princess’s company till later, her mind swirling with suggestions from the princess. It is with quick, hurried steps that she makes her way home, part of her eager to try them out.

~*~*~*~

After her usual evening ritual of dinner and housekeeping, Gwen lies in bed thinking of what Princess Abigail said.

Think of your young man.

She closes her eyes and thinks of Arthur, of the way he smiles at her, of the way his eyes light up when he sees her, of the way he presses kisses to her face. She remembers their first kiss and how her whole body had responded to it.

Think of his hands touching you.

That isn't difficult since that very thought had been plaguing her the past few days. Arthur has always been careful with her, his touches always chaste, until this morning when he had gripped her waist and tugged her close to him. Like last night, Gwen allows herself to imagine what it would be like if Arthur's hands had moved upwards. She imagines the warmth of his palms sliding up along her sides and brushing against her curves.

She starts to tingle between her legs.

Touch yourself the way you want him to touch you.

Her hands drift up to her breasts again and she simply cups them, feeling their weight in her hands. Her nipples have hardened and her breathing is becoming shallower. Yesterday, this had made her feel guilty but the princess had been adamant that there was nothing wrong with touching yourself. In fact, she suggested that it was a good thing to do - to ease the tension, she said. Still, Gwen can feel the guilt swell up in her but she tries to ignore it. Instead, she does as the princess suggests and squeezes her breasts, enjoying the feel of her hands on such a sensitive part of her body. Her nipples press against her palms and she pinches them lightly, enjoying the thrill it sends down to her toes, especially as she imagines it is Arthur whose hands are on her.

Soon this is not enough. Her hips are squirming and she feels the need to touch the throbbing between the legs.

So she does, the pleasure filling her body silences any guilt she feels. Her hands slide down to the top of her thighs before she hesitates. Aside from when she washes, Gwen has never touched herself there. Yet she remembers the feel of Arthur when his hardness pressed against her and how she wanted more.

Her hands creep lower and she tentatively touches herself through her thin shift. The pleasure that ripples through her when she applies some pressure on the little nub the princess mentioned is something she has never felt before. She strokes herself some more and to her surprise, the pleasure builds. Her hand moves faster and her hips start to buck. Without thinking, she pulls her slip up and her fingers continues to rub against the nub that gives her so much pleasure. She is wet and a slight, musky smell invades her nose.

In the haze of pleasure, she remembers the princess telling her something about slowly sliding her fingers inside herself but she’s too overwhelmed with pleasure to try and touching herself is already much more than she ever thought she would do. Putting her fingers inside herself was too much.

She instinctively moves her other hand to pinch at her nipple, kneading her breast while stroking herself between her legs. There are gasps and moans and she knows they are from her. Tension, a most pleasurable tension, builds in her. Her hips rotate, her hand moves faster and she feels like she’s racing towards something - she’s just not sure what.

There’s throbbing, there’s clenching and she’s suddenly seized by a rush of feelings.

She’s damp with sweat, her breathing is still uneven but there’s a sense of satisfaction that settles over her. It’s both fantastic and very strange. It was also tiring and before she can think about what she did, her eyes are closing and remembering that she has an early day the next day, she allows sleep to take over.

~*~*~*~

Princess Abigail is up waiting for her the next morning.

“Am I late?” Gwen is horrified as she makes her way into the room. She’s never late for work. Perhaps Bertha was right - giving in to your desires only led to bad things. The guilt she woke up with only increased. “I am so sorry. This will never happen again.”

The princess just waves her hand, dismissing Gwen’s concerns. Her eyes twinkling, she asks, “Did you have a good night?”

Gwen wonders if what she did was written all over her face. Too embarrassed by what she did last night, she mumbles a reply and moves to help the princess into her clothes.

“There’s nothing to be shy about,” the princess continues as Gwen ties her bodice up. “We are all humans and we all have desires. Why should we have to keep them a secret and repress them when the men are allowed to go off and sate their desires? If you think Prince Arthur isn’t lying in his bed pleasuring himself at night, then you’re mistaken.”

It takes great effort for Gwen not to react to the princess’s words as she finishes adjusting the princess’s dress. The princess must have sensed her discomfort for she drops the subject and instead tells Gwen all about how happy she is to be in Camelot, away from her overbearing father. Although Gwen nods and responses in all the right places, all she can think of is whether Arthur thinks of her or the princess when he pleasures himself.

The princess decides she wants to go riding after lunch and Arthur is asked to accompany her. As the princess’s lady-in-waiting, she had to follow and so did Merlin. Normally Gwen couldn’t be happier to leave the castle and ride through the surrounding forest but things had become really complicated over the past few days. Every time she looked at Arthur, all she could think of were the things she wanted to do with him, of what she wanted him to do with her. And yet when she saw him and the princess together, she felt annoyed and slightly jealous.

It is the same this trip. She and Merlin ride slightly behind Arthur and Princess Abigail and she watches them chat with each other. Arthur turns often to look at her and it warms her heart slightly but she can't help the discomfort in her heart. When they reach the stream, they stop to rest. After Merlin lays down a mat, the princess sits on it and pulls Arthur down next to her. Gwen notices, a little unhappily, that the princess, unlike her, has no qualms about touching Arthur intimately. Princess Abigail smooths her hand over Arthur’s thigh and leans against him.

Unable to take more of this, Gwen gets up and makes some excuses about picking flowers. She wanders a little, her mind full of thoughts. An arm wraps around her and turns her around.

“Arthur!” she breaths, loving the feel of him against her.

“Guinevere,” he murmurs before kissing her. This time, he teases her mouth open and sweeps his tongue inside. Then he bites her bottom lip gently. She shivers in delight and runs her hands along his torso.

He pulls away from her slightly and rests his forehead against hers. “I’m sorry. Abigail is very forward. I don’t mean to upset you.”

“I know.”

“Yeah? So you’re not angry?”

In response, she kisses him again and presses her hips against him. He moans. She moves her hips experimentally against his length. He groans into her mouth and brings his hands to her bum, pressing her even closer to him.

Remembering her pleasure from last night, she deepens her kiss but it’s not enough. She wants more. She needs more.

“Arthur?” The princess’s voice sounds in the distance.

They jump apart.

She is still throbbing between her legs when she returns to the stream and she can’t bring herself to look at Arthur.

~*~*~*~

“I think that Arthur is as inexperienced as you,” laughs the princess that night as they ready her for bed. “Every time I go near him or touch him, he gets so nervous. Or perhaps he is not interested in women.”

“I wouldn’t know my lady.”

“Well, it doesn’t matter. Perhaps one of the stable hands would be more willing.”

The princess never fails to surprise her. “Are you not afraid of bearing a child?” The question leaves her mouth before she can think better of it.

“I always forget how innocent you are my dear Gwen.” Amusement dances in Abigail’s eyes. “You can be with a man and not get pregnant.”

From the multiple warnings from Bertha and her father, Gwen had been quite convinced that being with a man would definitely lead to pregnancy. Her doubts must have shown because Abigail laughs a little.

“Gwen. I’ve been with men before and I’ve never gotten pregnant. It’s not impossible.”

Gwen can feel the blush rising in her even as her curiosity is piqued. She can’t help but think that if she knew what the princess knew, she and Arthur could -

She shakes her head, trying to rid herself of the images that are swirling in them. As usual the princess seems to be able to read her mind.

“Are you thinking of your mysterious beau? You are so cute when you blush.” And once again, the princess pulls her to sit on the bed beside her. “Why don’t I tell you a few things. Then you can try it with your beau.”

~*~*~*~

In the end, they had been interrupted by someone sent by Arthur who was wondering why she still had not left for home.

“The prince wants you at this time?” Princess Abigail looks suspiciously at Gwen and the knight who stood beside her. Her voice drops and she addresses Gwen quietly, “whatever I told you, do it because you want to. Don’t let people force you, even if they are the prince.”

Gwen doesn’t know what to say and nods gratefully. The knight gestures and she leaves with him.

Arthur is waiting just a few doors down, dressed in his cloak. Dismissing the knight, they wait till they are alone before he takes her hand.

“I’ll walk you home.”

After her conversation with the princess, even the feel of Arthur’s hand curled around hers sends thrills down her spine.

“Sorry about the picnic. It mustn’t have been easy for you.” Arthur murmurs, giving her hand a squeeze.

“It wasn’t that bad. I like the princess.” And she really does, despite the princess’s obvious attraction to Arthur. None of the other visiting royals she had ever served ever cared about her well-being or acted as if she was worth talking to. “She’s been very good to me.”

Arthur nods and they walk in companionable silence through the middle town until they reached her home.

“Do you want to come in?” She can’t even look him in the eye. How is she going to propose what the princess suggested?

“Sure.” Arthur enters her tiny house and removes his cloak. As soon as he hangs his cloak up, he turns to her and pulls her to him. “We should continue where we left off.” He grins at her, a grin which only gets bigger when Gwen reaches up and kisses him.

~*~*~*~

Arthur turns them around so that her back is pressed against the wall. Giggling, she opens her mouth to allow Arthur’s tongue in and for a while, kissing suffices. Tentatively, she slips her hand under his shirt, feeling the smoothness of his skin. He hisses in response before reaching down to grab her hands.

“Gwen. We shouldn’t.” He pulls away and cups her face gently.

“I want you.” The words are a lot easier to say than she expects, although she is sure she is blushing madly.

Arthur presses kisses all over her face. “I want you too but we can’t. Not until I can take you as my wife.”

She remembers Princess Abigail’s words, descriptions of how they could enjoy each other without fear of impregnating her and she longs to tell him. Except embarrassment was holding her tongue.

As if reading her mind, he leans his body against hers again. his forehead resting on hers. She can feel his breath puff against her face. “I suppose if we are careful, we might do a little more than kiss. That is, if you don’t mind.”

The moment Arthur’s body pressed fully on hers, sensible thoughts fled her mind and all she could say was yes. At least she must have because she feels his chuckle and he is kissing her again, warmly, deeply, stopping now and then to whisper how much he loves her. Hands tangle in her hair and his hips press harder into hers. She feels his length against her thigh, causing her to shiver and think of what the princess said. Once again, she slides her hands under his tunic, smiling when she feels him tremble under her palms. This times, he doesn’t stop her. Instead, he moves to kiss her neck. She lets her head fall and it hits the wall behind her. It is a good thing Arthur is pressing her against the wall because she doesn’t think her legs can hold her up.

“Arthur,” she whispers as he licks at her neck. Her breasts are feeling heavy and her nipples are sensitive. She is aching to be touched there but feels a little too shy to tell Arthur that. His hands are still in her hair. The throbbing between her legs increases and without thinking, she rubs against his thigh as she tries to find release.

“Guinevere.” Her fingers have found his nipples and she’s enjoying the feel of them against her palms. “Gwen.” Finally, his hands moved and tentatively he cups her breasts. The moan that comes from her is a mixture of relieve and satisfaction. When he squeezes and his thumb presses against her hardened nipples, she writhes even more.

“We should stop.”

“No. Please.”

He laughs. “Oh Gwen, Gwen, Gwen. You have no idea how much I want you.” And before she can reply, he picks her up and crosses to her tiny bed. Gently, she is placed on the bed and for some minutes, Arthur stands and watches her.

“Arthur?” She reaches for him, worried that he might leave.

He groans and climbs into the bed with her. The thin mattress sinks slightly and they roll against each other. Perhaps it was the fact that they were lying on a bed together for the first time. Perhaps it was because they had waited so long. Whatever it was, the kissing becomes frantic and their hands are touching, stroking and squeezing every inch of bare skin.

~*~*~*~

The first time her hand touches his length, it was an accident. The second time she pretends it is an accident. The third time, he takes her hand and cups it over him. In her ear, he whispers how good it feels and hisses when Gwen squeezes him.

It’s larger than she expects and she wonders how that is supposed fit into her. Not that that would be happening today but nervousness still runs through her and she drops her hand. Arthur stops suckling her neck in response, lifting himself up to look at her.

“Are you ok?” He is breathing hard and his eyes are dark. Gently, he pushes her curls from her face and presses a light kiss on her nose. Then he starts to move from the bed.

She reaches for him, feeling bereft when she no longer feels his warmth near her.

“Gwen, we don’t have to do this.” He sits at the edge of the bed, wrapping her hands in his. “One day, we’ll be married and we’ll have the time in the world.”

“No, I’m just a little nervous.” Her face feels warm and she knows she’s turned red.

Arthur laughs and leans over to kiss her again. “I’m nervous too,” he whispers as he brings her hands up to his thumping heart. For some reason, those words soothe her nerves and she tugs at him until he falls back on the bed. There’s laughter before their desire takes over again.

Arthur seems to be very fascinated with her breasts, nuzzling the valley between them as he squeezes them. For a while, she is content to just lie there and have him do the work, her hand playing with his hair.

As he fondles her breasts through her dress, his ministrations causes the ribbons to loosen until her top gapes open a little. He looks up at her, a question in his eyes. In response, she tugs at the ribbons until her bodice falls open. With great gentleness, Arthur pushes down her top and she sighs as the cool air hits her naked breasts. As she anticipates the touch of his hands on her bare skin, she can feel the heat building in her. When he takes too long, she grumbles a little before taking his hand and putting it on her.

“I never knew you would be so forward Guinevere,” Arthur laughs against her mouth, his hand finally cupping her bare breasts. “This feels wonderful. You’re so perfect.”

She realises that it isn’t just desire she is feeling. There’s a great sense of happiness that is unfurling in her. The moment his mouth closes over her nipple, she forgets all she is thinking about. Her hands go to his head and she holds him there. But soon it isn’t enough and she starts thinking of touching herself like she did that night. The kissing and touching is no longer enough. She moves her hips against his hardness, sighing in pleasure. He moves slightly, nestling nicely between her legs. Tentatively, she moves against him again.

“Arthur,” she whispers, almost pleading.

“What do you want?” He presses his hips down on her and she moans.

“Please. I don’t know.” Her hands are at his hips and she can’t stop herself from grinding into him.

“Is this what you want?” Arthur starts to move his hips too and, although it takes a while, they soon find a rhythm - him thrusting against her and she rotating her hips. They stop talking and all Gwen is capable of doing is gasping and moaning with pleasure. Arthur is no better. He buries his head in her neck, grunting as they move.

Their movements become more frantic. Arthur shudders and suddenly his whole weight collapses against her. Instinctively, she strokes his head. He has stopped moving but she still wants more. It’s disappointing.

“Did you?” Arthur lifts his head from her neck after a while and stares at her.

She shakes her head then looks away. Bertha pops into her head, reminding her that good girls didn’t enjoy such things. What was she doing?

Arthur gently turns her head to him and kisses her deeply. “What do you want me to do? I want you to be satisfied too but I’m not sure what to do.” He sounds apologetic.

She takes a deep breath. “You could touch me.”

“Touch you?”

“Down there.” Her voice drops and she avoids looking at him again.

“Oh.” There is a revelation in his voice. With aching slowness, Arthur lifts her skirts and slips his hand under them. She shivers when his fingers curl around her ankle and moves up along her thigh before finally cupping her. Without thinking, she thrusts into his hand.

“Do you like this?” He rubs her gently, occasionally hitting the knot of nerves there.

“Arthur.” She is thrusting against his hand and she can barely say anything besides his name. “Arthur.”

When his fingers brush against her nub again, she shivers and a moan is torn from her. He does it again. Her hips jerk, her eyes flutter close and she can’t help the moans that fall from her lips.

Once again, there is that familiar rush of feelings - familiar but better. She can hear herself gasping and moaning but she cannot control the noises she makes. Arthur rubs her faster and she feels like she’s falling.

“Oh Arthur.” She feels like crying with happiness. Arthur smiles, looking very pleased with himself as he settles himself next to her.

“You liked that.” He peppers kisses all over her face.

The words won’t come out but she smiles and snuggles into him. His arms wrapped around her tightly. “I love you Guinevere.”

~*~*~*~

Arthur leaves her home in the middle of the night and she awakes alone. For the next few days, Arthur becomes more touchy with her, sneaking her into hidden alcoves, touching and kissing her. They spend another night together, enjoying the pleasures of each other’s bodies.

The princess has another two more weeks in Camelot and Gwen has to admit that she has gotten fond of her. And she cannot help but feel bad when the princess talks about Arthur and how her father hopes she would marry him.

“He’s likeable enough but I fear his heart lies with someone else or he is not interested in females. Which is disappointing because I had hoped marriage to him would allow me to escape my father.” Princess Abigail had requested to have her evening meal in her room and invited Gwen to join her.

She laughs, “I don’t know why I’m telling you all this. I guess you’re the closest thing I have to a friend here. But enough about me. How have things been between you and your beau? Did you try the things I told you about?”

Gwen still finds it difficult to talk about such things but she nods her head. “It’s very enjoyable.”

A wide grin breaks across Princess Abigail’s face. “That’s wonderful.” With some probing, Gwen finds herself hesitantly describing her experiences to the princess who listens to them with a slight smile on her face.

“I feel guilty at times. We shouldn’t be doing such things and I shouldn’t be feeling as if I want to do more.” Once Gwen confesses, she feels a weight off her shoulders.

The princess waves a hand dismissively and annoyance coloured her eyes. “Don’t listen to them. What is wrong with you enjoying yourself? Are you hurting anyone? No one tells the men the same things - that they shouldn’t enjoy themselves. Instead, I am sure you know, these men think they are entitled to enjoy themselves with as many women as they want. So why can’t we. Just be careful.”

She pauses for a while, regarding Gwen carefully. Gwen looks away, uncomfortable with the princess’s scrutiny.

“Your beau - he isn’t the one making you feel guilty is he?”

“Oh no.” Gwen can feel herself going warm again as images of Arthur fill her mind. “He is very pleased.”

As if determined to shock her every few days, Princess Abigail whispers a suggestion in her ear. “If you tire of using your fingers, you could suggest he do that.”

“Oh.” Gwen doesn’t know how to respond to the suggestion. She has heard from some of the other maids of how they have done that for their beaus but to have Arthur do it to her instead - that was completely insane. How would she even broach the subject with him?

“Now I must ask you a favour. As I said, my father had hopes that I would marry the prince.” Guilt shot through Gwen again. This time, it wasn’t her activities in bed that caused it. Oblivious to Gwen’s discomfort, the princess continued. “I see that you are close to his manservant. Speak to him and find out how the prince feels. Please.”

Gwen stares at the princess. If she were honest, she could provide Princess Abigail with her answers now but a deceit carried out so far is always difficult to reveal. When the princess lifts her eyebrow in question, Gwen nods quickly.

“Thank you. Now, if you help me with this dress, I can get changed and you may retire for the night. I am sure you would want to spend some time with your beau.”

~*~*~*~

Gwen doesn’t see Arthur for a few days as he is called away to investigate some deaths in a village somewhere. In a sense, Gwen is relieved. The princess’s request haunts her and with Arthur and Merlin away, she is able to avoid addressing the topic.

In the meantime, she thinks of Arthur and their interactions as she rubs herself in the privacy of her room. As she slips a finger, sometimes two, into herself, she wonders if Arthur would feel the same in her. Since the princess suggested that they should try something other than their fingers, Gwen has been simultaneously excited and nervous at the prospect. She cannot wait for Arthur to return.

A few days later, the castle is in a flurry when Gwen arrives at work. Princess Abigail is not in her room and everyone is rushing about.

“Gwen!” Merlin waves at her and she runs to catch up with him.

“What happened?” But with a sinking heart she knows - Arthur is hurt. “How is he?”

Merlin merely gestures for her to follow him and they enter Arthur’s chambers. She barely manages to hide her sigh of relief when she sees that he is awake but the bloody bandages wrapped around his torso causes her heart to clench. Still, Gaius, the King and the princess are there and it would be foolish to show too much emotion. For the rest of the day, she is distracted by her worry. Princess Abigail watches her with a mixture of concern and suspicion before she dismisses Gwen early.

“There is something on your mind. Perhaps you should see to it.” The princess’s tone is not unkind but it is cooler than usual.

A bunch of wildflowers cradled in her arms, she approaches the guard at Arthur’s door.

“Here to do Merlin’s chores again?”

She smiles and nods when the guard pushes open the door for her. Slipping in, she waits for the door to close before she makes her way to Arthur. Carefully, she places the flowers in a vase. Then she crosses to the bed where Arthur appears to be in deep slumber. His chest is still bandaged and she instinctively reaches out a hand to brush his forehead.

She yelps when Arthur grabs her hand and pulls her onto the bed with him.

“I was waiting for you,” he croaks as he rubs his thumb across her palm. Shivers run through her and she chides herself for thinking about that again, especially when Arthur is injured and in pain.

Stroking his hair tenderly, she seats herself comfortably on his bed. “How are you? What happened? Merlin said it was mercenaries.”

“If Merlin had been a little more alert, then maybe I wouldn’t be in this state. But I’m fine. Gaius says nothing is broken so I just have to rest till the wound heals.” Arthur rubs her thigh with one hand and she burns under his touch. “How about a kiss to make my pain go away?”

When she leans over to kiss him, his arm slides around her waist and tugs so that she is lying beside him on the bed. He opens his mouth and for the first time, Gwen slips her tongue into his, exploring. The kiss deepens and his hands are smoothing her back before slowly moving to her front. She tenses, waiting for him to touch her breasts. Eventually he does and she sighs with pleasure.

“Ow.” Arthur pulls away slightly and holds his chest.

“Oh dear. Did I hurt you? We shouldn’t be doing this.” She scrambles into a seating position, resolutely ignoring the heat pooling between her thighs. "You need to rest."

"I need the woman I love next to me. Lie with me. We don't have to do anything too vigorous." Arthur grins naughtily at her and she succumbs, laying herself carefully next to him. Smiling, Arthur kisses her again and for a while that is all they do. For a while, the kiss is slow and languorous and their hands traverse the familiar hills and valleys of each other’s body. Gwen purrs with happiness as his hand settles against her hips, his thumb tracing circles that send shivers up her spine. Shifting into a more comfortable position, she brushes against his hard length and he sucks in a breath.

“Sorry.”

His fingers wrap around her wrist and he stops her from moving her hand away. “No. Don’t be sorry.”

Gwen can feel the blush that spreads through her but she unfurls her fingers and cups him gently. It throbs and she looks away from Arthur, the intimacy of her actions making her feel suddenly shy. Tentatively, she moves her hand, gently stroking him. Arthur murmurs in approval, his eyes closing as his mouth curls into a smile. She lifts herself up and kisses him, nipping at his lips and tangling with his tongue.

She doesn’t mean it to happen but suddenly, everything gets more frantic and her hand is squeezing his length as she strokes, loving how he seems to be growing harder and hotter under her touch. His hands tug at the laces of her bodice and finally, they loosen and her bodice slides off. Her dress is pushed off her shoulders to her waist. Then he cups her breasts, his thumb running gently across her hardened nipples. A moan is torn from her and she shudders with pleasure. The ache between her legs increases and she finds herself rubbing against Arthur’s side, trying, with no luck, to ease the ache.

Arthur lets out a breath, before he pulls away slightly. “I don’t think we can do what we usually do.” His voice is low and full of desire. His chest under her hand, rises and falls erratically as disappointment clouds his eyes.

"It doesn't mean we can't do anything." She isn't sure where her boldness comes from but it probably has something to do with the throbbing between her legs and the thoughts she has been having since the princess's latest suggestions.

~*~*~*~

Gwen regrets her words as soon as she says them because her shyness and her uncertainties come flooding back. Would Arthur think her too forward?

“You have something in mind?" Arthur asks, looking at her with a mixture of curiosity and amusement.

Gwen takes a deep breath. This was the man she loved. If she couldn’t be honest with him, who could she be honest with? “You lie there and let me do the work.” Her face must be completely red right now and she quickly sits up.

“I’m at your mercy then.” Arthur lies back on his pillows and watches her, a slight smile on his face.  
Avoiding his gaze, Gwen remembers the princess’s words and how Arthur touches her when they are together. Quickly she divests herself of her dress and she can feel Arthur’s heated gaze on her. She moves lower until she is kneeling next to his hips.

“You’re perfect,” he murmurs, the smile on his face growing.

Then, she bites her lips, unaware of the effect it has on Arthur, and frowns slightly as she undoes the ties on his breeches. As she pulls at them, she feels Arthur’s hand touch her hair softly. Her fingers tremble as she considers what she is planning to try. For a moment, she wonders if Arthur would think her too common if she does what is thinking of.

“Gwen?” Arthur’s voice is full of concern and worry, “You don’t have -”

She decides that she is being silly. Arthur has never once been anything but pleased at her recent forwardness. Gently she tugs his breeches down and cups him, grinning when he sucks in a breath. She has touched Arthur many times before but she’s never had the chance to observe him at such close quarters and for a moment she simply stares. Tentatively, she touches him, her thumb swiping at the tip where liquid has gathered. In response he tenses and groans out her name, his hand snakes down to cover hers, urging her to rub him. She doesn’t need to be persuaded and does so, watching with fascination as his hips jerk and he twitches.

Then, she leans down and kisses him. It starts with small butterfly kisses she presses along his length before she licks him slowly, dragging her tongue along him. The taste and smell of him is strange yet arousing and she feels herself getting wet.

His fingers curl in her hair tightly as he moans. “What are you doing? Oh … Guinevere -” The desire and need in his voice only spurs her on and Gwen licks with a bit more force. Arthur bucks in response, his nails digging into her head. Her tongue moves across his tip and she feels him harden even more. A thrill runs through her. Running her hands over his thighs, she revels in the feel of his smooth, warm skin and how his muscle tenses as she parts her lips to wrap them around him.

“Gwen,” rasped Arthur, squirming and jerking under her.

After the initial discomfort, Gwen settles into some sort of rhythm, as much as one she can manage with Arthur bucking under her with every swipe of her tongue, and she bobs up and down on him. She is rewarded by both Arthur’s groans and mutterings and by how much control she seems to have. Enjoying this more than she expected, she hums with satisfaction as her hands gently stroke every part of him she can reach.

Then Arthur is pushing her away and worry strikes her. Has she done something wrong?

“Gwen,” he growls as he pushes against her. She releases him and looks up. “You need to stop. I am going to come. Come here.”

She climbs up next to him, her hand still stroking him. Her strokes are leisurely as he captures her lips in a deep kiss, seemingly unconcerned that she had just been sucking him. Fingers tangling in her hair, he asks her where she learnt to do that.

“Did you like it?” When will she stop blushing when speaking of such things?

“Couldn’t you tell?” Arthur chuckles as one hand covers hers and urges her to stroke harder and faster. “Although I never knew you were so -”

Her hand stops moving. “So what?”

Arthur is nibbling at her ear. “Mmm, so brilliantly knowledgeable. Clearly I have a lot to learn from you.”

And for a while they don’t speak. At his silent urging, she rubs him until he groans and spills into her hands. Unsure of what comes over her, she lifts her hand to her mouth and tastes him.

“Oh god,” Arthur breaths out as he watches her. “There’s a towel in the drawer next to the bed,” he chokes out.

When she returns to his side after she cleans herself, he grins at her. Desire is still throbbing in her and she wonders if she will have to pleasure herself again later. He could rub her to completion, she supposes, but she can’t help but remember the princess’s words, describing how the man can also use his mouth on her.

“It’s your turn.” For some reason, Arthur is deep in thought as he reaches out to palm her breasts.

“You can barely move,” Gwen points out, unable to resist pressing into his palms.

“Hmm, then you’ll have to help me.” Arthur grins at her, a satisfaction in his eyes, as if he had just solved a difficult problem. “I should return the favour. And I think that if you position yourself above me, I can probably manage without too much movement.”

~*~*~*~

“Gwen? I was asking you a question.” Princess Abigail raises her voice slightly.

Flustered, Gwen turns away from the window she was staring out of. “I’m sorry, my lady. I was distracted.” She hopes desperately that the princess does notice the flush on her cheeks.

When Princess Abigail walks to the window and peers out, Gwen tenses and moves away. For some reason, the princess has been a lot more reticent since morning, only speaking to Gwen when she wanted something. There is no more gentle teasing of her and her beau or confidences about her father and his demands.

The princess, still looking out of the window, says quietly, “I see the prince is well enough to be walking around the courtyard. You must have taken very good care of him last night.”

Gwen says nothing.

“I thought you would be more honest with me Gwen,” the princess faces her, her face carefully blank.

“After all I shared with you, why did you not tell me who this beau of yours was?”

“I don’t know what you are talking about.” She’s an awful liar and she knows her face is flushed.

Princess Abigail looks coolly at her and Gwen’s heart sinks.

“My lady, I -” Gwen isn’t sure what she is going to say but she feels she needs to say something. What if the princess reports their relationship?

Raising a hand and quietening Gwen, the princess lets out a sigh before moving to her bed. “I suppose I understand your reticence. It cannot be easy having the prince as your beau.”

And there it is - out in the open. It is the first time anyone has said this out loud and it feels strange, almost scary. Gwen dips her head, unable to look at the princess. She has heard enough of the perils of serving girls fraternizing with the nobles to recite them all by heart now.

“I am sorry, my lady.”

“Are you sure about him?” The princess’s voice has lost some of its coolness. “He’s not just any noble. He is the prince of Camelot.”

Gwen looks up, slightly annoyed. “Do you think I don’t know? That I don’t know I am just a lowly servant, that everyone expects him to marry some princess or noble, that no one will approve of us?”

“Gwen,” the princess stretches one hand out, urging her to come closer. “Does he love you?”

“Yes.” The answer is a whisper but Gwen knows that despite every one's doubts and disapproval, Arthur loves her.

Princess Abigail watches Gwen for a while before smiling slightly. “Then I wish you the best of luck. It’s not going to be easy. I guess it is time for me to return home as well since I won’t be marrying the prince.”

“Your father?”

“He will not be happy and he’ll probably try to find yet another man for me to marry.” The princess laughs. “Sometimes, I envy you Gwen, with the freedom you have to choose who you marry. And then sometimes I don’t. But let us not talk about such serious matters.”

The barriers that came up between them in the morning fall and Princess Abigail again teases her about her and Arthur, asking what she did to help the prince recover so quickly.

As they talk through the night, Gwen realises that she will miss the princess when she leaves.

~*~*~*~

The knock she is expecting comes and she hurries to open her door. Arthur grins at her before sweeping her into a hug and peppering her face with kisses. She hasn’t seen him in days and she misses him terribly.

“You’re alright,” she murmurs as she runs her hands over him.

“I don’t come back injured all the time.”

It has been over a month since the princess left Camelot and she still can't shake the slight guilt she feels. She hopes that the man the princess eventually marries is a good man.

"Are you thinking of Abigail again?" Arthur is sitting on her bench and pulls her onto his lap, wrapping his arms around her waist. "My father mentioned her at dinner today oddly enough."

"Oh. What did he say?" She can feel his lips against her neck and she tilts her head forward so he has easier access.

"She is about to be married to King Hadrian. I don't know anything about him." His hands creep up from her waist to start untying her top.

She sighs as Arthur nuzzles her neck. "I hope she will be happy."

"Mmmm. Maybe she'll be as happy as us." Arthur continues to kiss her neck as he tugs her loosened top down. His hands cup her breasts and she can feel his growing excitement. "I will forever be thankful for her advice to you."

Gwen still cannot help the blush that spreads across her face but she’s come a long way from the girl she was before. Leaning against Arthur, she enjoys the way his hands play with her breasts and his mouth suckles at her neck before finally deciding that she too wants to feel him. Arthur makes a sound of disapproval when she leaves his lap but she is more intent in getting Arthur out of his shirt. He laughs at her efforts as he helps her, then quickly scooping her up he drops her, somewhat unglamourously, onto her small bed.

“Hello Guinevere,” he rasps as his fingers trail down her body, leaving her wanting more. She means to say something smart but Arthur kneels in front of her bed and kisses her ankle. Instead she squeals and she feels him smile.

Arthur is pushing her skirts up as he presses kisses against her calf, then her thighs and then higher still. Gwen knows she’s already wet and urges him to move faster with her hands. But she also knows Arthur loves to torment her in bed and it comes as no surprise when he purposely avoids her and continues to kiss and lick the inside of her thighs instead.

“Arthur,” she groans, “you are a horrible person.”

That only elicits a laugh from him but at least he finally presses a kiss against her folds. She lets out a sigh, her legs opening up wider as she anticipates the pleasure that is to come. The first time they tried this was memorable for all the wrong reasons but after all the practise they have had since, Arthur knows exactly what she likes and seems to take great delight in pleasing her.

By the time his tongue dips inside her, she is grabbing her sheets tightly and her hips are bucking, trying to move closer to him. He stops and looks up at her, until she opens her eyes and looks back at him.

"Arthur?" Her voice is a whisper of need.

His eyes are hooded. "Say you want me." It's both a plea and a demand and Gwen doesn't hesitate to fulfil it. He chuckles at her response and kisses her inner thigh before moving back to her wet heat and sucking her. Her legs feel weak and pleasure is building in her. One hand tangles in Arthur's hair while the other clutches at her sheets as she moves closer to the edge.

Waves of pleasure swamp her and she cries out. Quickly, Arthur climbs on the bed, his body half covering hers as a result of her tiny bed and covers her mouth with his. Gwen can taste herself on him but it only builds her excitement again. Her arms curl around him and he presses himself firmly against her.

"I love you," he mutters as he kisses her. "I love you."

And she replies both through words and by reaching her hand down to cradle his hardness. His hips grind against her hand and from the way he is breathing, she knows he won't last much longer. She nips his earlobe and squeezes.

"You are so naughty," he gasps before he groans and slumps against her.

They snuggle for a while. The tiny bed makes it difficult to be completely comfortable but they endure. Arthur's fingers are in her hair and he tugs at her curls absently. She presses her face into his chest, enjoying his scent and warmth.

"One day, you'll marry me won't you?"

Gwen lifts her head up. It's the closest they ever come to talking about their future.

"Guinevere?" She sees the uncertainty in his eyes and she realises he is serious.

"Yes, of course," she smiles, trying to stem the sudden tears that have developed.

Arthur pulls her even closer, his arms tightening around her waist. "Good. That's good." Then he laughs. "And then perhaps, we will be able to try out more things in bed."

Gwen hits his arm but cannot help agreeing with his sentiments.


End file.
